Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Frère Jockstrap and The Rutabaga

Frère Jockstrap!” “The Rutabaga!”
That’s how brothers Jacques and Rudy make
their greetings every morning to each other right
before they set again into their lucrative set-to:

get underfoot and over-thigh, beyond this elbow
or that knee or ankle, therefrom to an ear or nose
or chin, thence to the bumps upon their stumpy feet
that pass for toes – all those and other body parts

now inexhaustibly resume their arts of tangling back
into whatever Gordian knot they’d disentangled from
the day before, a set-to at which they are whizzes
at sustaining new extremities of stark intractability,

so photogenically alluring they’ve become a “thing”:
and more, the single sight sight-seers snap a photo of
on Comte Le Cocq Archipelago where they happily
reside in the LeVance Merganser Sea just off
the coast of lovely Southern Bummersby.

And yo! Physicists are wide-eyed at the calculus
implied in the exertions Jacques and Rudy daily
now abide! The equations of entanglement in
the fraternity of Frère Jockstrap and The Rutabaga
irrefutably have proven to explain Eternity!


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